Trevor

Trevor

Iwoke up first the next morning. It took me a minute to figure out exactly where I was. Obviously I’m no stranger to waking up in random hotel rooms. A solid five months of my year is spent traveling nearly constantly.

The hotel part didn’t throw me. It was the woman who was beside me. The fact that there was a woman beside me, period. That’s rule number six. The usual awkward good mornings, the false expectations. It always sounded like a fucking nightmare. But last night I knew this morning would be different, that Sage is different. She’s just as adverse to that shit as I am, maybe even more so.

If I hadn’t broken rule number two as well, I probably wouldn’t have high-tailed it out of there like I did. It’s not like I was worried she was gonna make things weird. If I’m honest, I was worried I was gonna make things weird. She’s the one staying consistent. I’m the one who’s out of fucking sorts.

Last night was completely out of character for me, at least for the me I’ve been for the last decade. Erica used to get really bad cramps, and she always loved it when I rubbed her stomach. She said it helped a lot. She was also a huge snacker like Sage and…I don’t know. I felt bad, I guess.

Fuck. I felt bad? What is going on with me?

I face forward in the seat on the plane, trying to focus on the music playing through my ear buds, hoping they will drown out the fucking monotony of thoughts running through my head that have no business there.

I don’t even have to look up to know when she steps inside the plane—it’s like I can feel her, and I don’t like it one fucking bit. Despite my inner voice coaching me to continue facing forward, my eyes disobey, glancing as she makes her way down the aisle. My eyes flick to the empty seat beside me and part of me kinda hopes that she sits next to me. It’s better than someone who isn’t gonna shut up the whole flight back or something.

To my surprise, she doesn’t even look my way. I watch as Donatello reaches a hand out to stop her, saying something I can’t hear before she looks down at him. I quickly pause my music, but it’s too late to hear him. All I see is her giving him a small smile and a nod before scooting in to take the window seat beside him.

What the fuck?

My eyes narrow at her. Despite her being three rows in front of me and on the other side of the plane, I expect her to feel my glare on her. I thought she was done with him. She never told me how the date went, but the fact that she was willing to bend over in the bathroom in the middle of it tells me she isn’t all that interested in him. Then again, I’m not sure Sage is the type of woman to be interested in anyone. Not for more than a night at least, and that’s not a dig at her at all. I get it. The appeal, the ease. No strings, just pleasure for all involved. It’s clean, simple. Pain free. At least for me.

Suddenly, my view of her is blocked when Slater plops down in the seat beside me. I push his chest, forcing him against his seat as I lean over.

C’mon, Raven. Look at me.

As if my thoughts were enough to get through to her, her eyes come to mine. A light flipping feeling hits my stomach the second her gaze is on me. It’s something I haven’t felt in a damn long time, and I’m wondering why the fuck I’m getting like this all of the sudden. With her eyes on my own, my mind goes blank. What the fuck am I doing? Trying to get her attention? For what reason? If I was interested in her, wouldn’t I have at least stuck around this morning? Said what’s up or something before I went back to my room? I didn’t, though. And that was for a reason. We are barely temporary roommates. Most days, it’s a miracle if we don’t kill each other.

What do I care if she hooks up with Donatello? She’s a grown woman, barely, who can handle herself. She doesn’t need my permission or approval. She’s got a daddy for that shit, though obviously Coach isn’t too interested in that title.

I watch Donatello steal her attention once again, a soft smile curving her face as she looks at him. Softer than any smile she gives me, that’s for sure. And it pisses me off. My fists curl in my lap in irritation as Slater speaks.

“If you don’t want people to play with your toys, then you gotta put your name on them.”

“What?” I sneer.

Slater gives me a dry ‘don’t be dumb’ look before he glances over to Sage and Donatello.

“You got a thing for the coach’s daughter. Whether you just wanna fuck her, or you actually dig her, doesn’t matter. Seeing Jackson just talk to her has you ready to throttle his ass. It’s all over your face.”

“Fuck off,” I huff lazily as I settle back into my seat and pull out my phone to start my music up again.

“Someone’s in deniallllll,” Slater sings, causing Dec to laugh as Seb comes up behind him, both of them taking the two seats across the aisle from us.

“About what?” Dec asks.

“Nothing,” I say lazily, hoping Slater will drop it.

Of course, ever the little gossip and shit stirrer that he is, he doesn’t.

“A certain grumpy quarterback wants to fuck a grumpier team social media girl.”

“That’s a hell of a title,” Seb says with a lift of his brow.

Slater rolls his eyes and flips Seb off.

“Whatever. You guys knew who I was talking about. Let’s be real. I know it’s not just my wife who’s been whispering this shit into my ear at night. Everyone can see how bad they want each other. That’s why they hate each other so hard.”

“According to Erica, they’re already fucking,” Seb says easily as he scrolls through his phone.

“Who told her?” I ask.

I haven’t told Erica anything about Sage and I hooking up. I didn’t know Sage was telling people. Out of all the people in the world, too, did she have to tell Erica? I mean, I guess it doesn’t really matter. They are friends, but it feels weird that she’s talking to my ex about us.

“That’s just her assumption, but looks like you just confirmed it, though,” Seb says with a less heated look than normal before he’s back to his phone.

“No way? Already? Fuck you move quick,” Slater laughs. “You did get her to show some ID, right? Baby girl doesn’t even look old enough to drink.”

“She’s not,” I mutter as my eyes swing back to her.

Slater laughs at that before he starts rambling on to Declan about some plans Vi and Scar are putting together and just now telling them about. I guess it wasn’t Sage who let it slip, not that we were trying to keep it quiet or anything. I mean, maybe besides keeping it from Coach. Something comforting settles in me at that, maybe it’s trust? I don’t know, but whatever it is, the thought relaxes me and sets me on edge all at the same time.

The ride home is a quiet one. I have plenty I want to say, plenty I want to ask, but I know all of those things will only be followed up by questions that I’m not prepared to answer. So, instead, I stay silent.

Sage stares out the window, like she’s somewhere else entirely, lost inside her mind. As much as I try to keep my own blank, I can’t help but wonder what has that look on her face. Is she happy? Upset? Confused? She’s so fucking hard to read sometimes, and for some reason, I’m fucking desperate to figure her out. Maybe because every time that I think I have her pegged, she flips the script on me, and I’m left speechless and back to square one.

Her phone buzzes as we turn on our street. I do my best to covertly look over, but I can’t see who messaged her. Being the fucking asshole I am, I can’t stop my mouth before it opens.

“That Donatello?”

She looks away from her phone to glance up to me with her brows downturned.

“Why would it be Jackson?”

I shrug, doing my best to keep my eyes on the road and not on her.

“You guys seemed cozy on the plane ride. You guys are dating. I just—”

“We aren’t dating,” she quickly corrects.

Good. I was bluffing on that last part.

“Well, you guys went on a date. He’s still flirting, and all googly-eyed at you. I just assumed,” I shrug.

“Yeah, well, it would never work.”

“Why?” I ask a little too eagerly.

Goddamnit, Trevor. Get it together.

“Honestly?” she asks before pausing for a moment. “He’s the fucking worst kisser I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

My head whips over to her so fast, the car swerves for a moment before I correct it. My hands tighten around the leather wheel as my jaw ticks.

“You kissed him?” I grit out.

“Uh yeah?” she laughs as if that was a given. “And it was terrible. All wet and slimy and ugh,” she shivers in her seat as she shakes her head. “Don’t tell anyone, though. He’s a nice guy. I don’t want him to feel like shit.”

I pull up to the driveway, entering the code to the gate quickly before pulling through and parking. When I shut the car off, I turn in my seat to see Sage is already watching me. Like she expected me to say more. Why is she so fucking intuitive?

“Good,” I say simply.

She raises an eyebrow at me. “Good?”

I nod. “I’m glad he was a shit kisser. He wasn’t good enough for you anyway.”

“He wasn’t?” she asks lightly, though it doesn’t sound much like a question.

“Nope.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to set my standards a little higher next time. Maybe I’ll kiss the next guy before I flirt with him. Save me a little bit of time,” she says as she goes to get out of the car.

I stop her in her tracks, though. My fingers dig into her thigh as I pin her to the seat. My teeth are clenched so tightly I hear them crack as I do my best to control my breathing.

“No.”

“No?” she questions.

“Yeah, no. There isn’t a next time. There won’t be any kissing other guys. This pussy is mine until I say so,” I say, sliding my hand away from her thigh before cupping her.

She gasps softly at the motion but does a fantastic job of keeping her tone even as she speaks.

“And if I tell you that isn’t going to work for me?”

“Then I’ll make you come on my face over and over again until it will work for you,” I say deeply, brushing my thumb against the soft leggings where I know her clit is.

Sage shudders in her seat, her hips slightly arching into my touch as her eyes close softly.

“Open your eyes, Raven. Look at me.”

She does as I tell her, those full pouty lips practically all I can focus on as I speak.

“I don’t ever want to see you on a date or watch you flirt with another man until we’re done. Is that understood?”

“So bossy,” she teases as I increase my pressure, causing her to let out a soft whimper of desire.

“Is that understood?” I repeat.

“Fuck, fine. But the same goes for you. I don’t want to catch any diseases from your bimbo of the day collection.”

I fight not to let my mouth turn up in amusement at that one. For such a brat, she’s funny.

Sometimes.

“Deal.”

“Okay, well, if you’ll excuse me, me and my horny, but bleeding, vagina want a long hot shower and bed.”

“I can’t stop the bleeding part, but I can help with something else,” I say as my cock begins to harden.

Fuck it. It’s just a little blood. We could fuck in the shower for easy clean up as long as it won’t hurt her.

She screws her face up at me like the very idea is disgusting as she shakes her head.

“No thanks. Your cock could massacre my pussy on a normal day. I don’t need to see it actually covered in my blood.”

I can’t help but bark out a laugh at that as she gets out of the car and heads inside while I grab our bags.